A Smilex Bride
by Amledo
Summary: So again I really wish that Harley Quinn was in TDK, but she wasn't and I wanted to give her a Nolanverse sort of intro. I came up with this. 't' for some violence and language. ONESHOT


(A/N: Ok, first off I don't own anything to do with Batman…Bob Kane gave us that and I dare someone to take the credit for his awesome. Anyway, one of my favorite things to do in my spare time is come up with Nolanverse Harley Quinn origins. This is one of them. Umm…no warnings of the sexual nature, some violence but that's to be expected.)

A Smilex Bride

Do they know? The question rang sharp in her mind, like fingernails on a chalkboard making her shiver every time. But could they know? How could they know? She was sure they knew as she flexed her fingers against the stiffness of purple leather gloves, keeping her head down in the crowd. They weren't watching, or were they? The tension in her body was making her hurt, like she was being compressed and stretched all at once, and she rolled her shoulders under the stifling purple jacket. The motion did nothing to alleviate the pain, the agony of fear, could they hear the knives rattling in her pockets? No…no she was sure it was just…oh God they were looking at her.

The alleyway that she dove into was dark, cramped and more than a little wet, it bothered her, but not as much as their eyes. And when she caught sight of herself in a puddle it made her already racing heart hammer out of rhythm, a strangely wobbling sensation that made her head hurt. A white grease paint mask, eyes ringed sloppily in black and a violent gash of red over her mouth. Who could have done it? Who, and why to her? Breathing heavily but trying to calm down she finally looked down at her clothes, under the purple coat was a blue suit jacket, a green vest with a blue undershirt and purple tie. She ran her hands nervously over the purple pants and inspected the argyle socks that were making her feet so warm in the brown loafers. Was it some sort of joke? Where were her memories?

She pressed her body against the wall; she was hyperventilating and attempting to make herself small, to hide from the world at the end of the alleyway. Why couldn't she understand? How had all of it happened? Even her hair was different, having been severed almost violently to her shoulders and crudely dyed a grungy green. Everything about her had changed in what felt like the blink of an eye to her. Memories, she needed to know who she was…Harleen Quinzel; it was a name at least. But who was she?

"Are you okay?" a voice startled her, making her gasp before glancing over and groaning. It was an officer of the Gotham Police Department, and she knew just who she was supposed to look like. So amusing was the prospect of her imminent death that she burst out laughing, it was uncontrollable psychotic laughter that hurt her lungs. She didn't know why but her panic breathing had easily transformed into roaring peals of laughter, and it wasn't that she meant to keep it up but she couldn't stop.

"That's a ha-ha good question," she said through the giggling, and at last the cop had come close enough to her for her mind to snap. No thought behind it she plunged a small knife into his throat, watching with amusement as his eyes went wide, but she didn't look away from them, letting him see the difference that was her green gaze. Slowly the man sank to the ground; she had intentionally missed the main blood flow. But it all changed when she ripped the blade out of him, and in rapid succession stabbed him 43 more times. Each blow landed in his next and though she knew he was dead after the 3rd she couldn't bring herself to stop until he was nearly beheaded.

A blank stare was all the expression she wore as she picked through his wallet and pocketed his gun. The baton just made her giggle and she whacked him square in the face with it until he was no longer recognizably human. None of it fazed her, nothing seemed to reach her and for once it didn't matter to her, not one bit. And that made her giggle again. What did it matter? Why should it matter when the world was just chaos and a perfectly normal life could be ruined with one bad day? She was living proof, why did it matter at all? And killing that man had been a great deal of fun.

"So…why'd ya kill 'im?" a calm voice asked and she glanced around, confused and a little distracted by the sudden appearance of the man in the face paint, wasn't that hers? The Joker, her addled brain finally put it together, though it was vague and she didn't know why he was so important. But then she was smiling widely at him, of course he was the one that she was meant to look like, why hadn't she met him before?

"Not a clue. Just wanted to, maybe, I dunno," her voice peaked and quaked with giggles, and he calmly removed the knife and baton from her twitching hands. Almost as though he were attempting to be professional he tucked them into her pockets.

"So, this is how Smilex works. Interesting…very interesting, the clothes were a nice touch, though I prefer being the only Clown Prince in this city. Look at me, come on girl, focus! What's your name?" he asked almost demanding of her as he held her head firmly to keep her focus. But she was clearly struggling to keep her eyes fixed. Of course the name she knew her name, but it didn't matter because she wasn't the same person anymore and different people had different names.

"What's in a name? Not much if you ask me Mista J," she squeaked and giggled her way through his growl and continued on her same disconnected little thought process. A gasp left her throat as he lifted her up and slammed her against a dripping brick wall, his patience was clearly spent. But she couldn't stop laughing at him. In fact the more he got stressed out the more she laughed.

"Look at me!" he roared and she rolled her eyes with a little snort and cackle, that earned her a sharp smack across the face. But she absorbed the pain, laughing through it as he stuck her with a needle, the syringe filled with something she couldn't see. Then the world began to tilt on its side and she collapsed on his shoulder, the last thing she heard was his laugh.

"It's too damn strong Scarecrow. She was completely gone!"

"That is the point, isn't it? You know you're easier to talk to these days, at any rate that was the one non lethal dose of this formula."

"No…I need these…things able to follow orders. Hell all she did was laugh at me and I'll be damned if she is able to keep eye contact."

"Sounds a lot like you when you're showing off for the Bat. Another formula will take a few weeks to develop, just up the dosage use it to kill people. All I'm saying is clearly the stuff works."

"What do I do with her? And what is her name anyway?"

"Name is Harleen Quinzel she was one of my fellows at Arkham, oddly brilliant. Thought it would be the kind of mind you wanted destroyed. As for a purpose, I'm not sure. Kill her, use her as a decoy, fuck her brains out. I really can't be bothered with this. Come back in a couple weeks and I'll have your Smilex."

"Harleen Quinzel, heh, well looks like I bagged me a Harley Quinn," the Joker laughed hysterically at his own pun as he carried his new side kick out of the room.

(A/N: Well there was an idea, hope you liked it. Reviews are welcome.)


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